Collins's Foibles
by Honey Jenkins
Summary: A short peek into how things might have been, had Mr. Collins's conscience been prickled by his accidental viewing of a certain Bennet sister's endowments. An extended one-shot.
1. Indecent Slip

**Indecent Slip**

Lydia Bennet was not overly virtuous. It was a truth universally accepted that the mere act of listening to sensible things would give her a terrible case of yawning; an impediment for which there was no cure but to cease such stifling pursuits and find some amusement straight away. So it was as much to her surprise as anyone's when she found herself interested in her cousin, Mr. Collins. There was no reason for it. He was boorish, clownish, most decidedly not handsome, and wore the robes of a clergyman rather than the strapping uniform of a young officer. Still, he fascinated her with his somber moralizing and ridiculous affectations of humility. Beneath that stuffy facade she was certain there dwelt a man of worldly pleasures; a man she felt challenged to bring out.

Mr. Collins was a man of profound self righteousness. He prided himself on being far more virtuous than the average sinner, and accepted no humiliation from anyone but his prestigious patron, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He could not imagine bestowing a greater kindness on a woman than to grant her access to Lady Catherine's most generous company, and indeed had traveled to Longbourn with the sole intention of taking himself a wife so that she could call on her as promised. Of all the Bennet sisters, Lydia seemed the least suited to the quiet-mannered life of a country parson. However, the unfortunate lack of decorum in her habits presented Mr. Collins with a moral dilemma. He felt a certain obligation to try his hand at reforming her whilst utilizing the abundant stores of his instructive messages. If her animated spirit could be tempered into a more appropriate way of showing itself, she would make a lively partner. She was a fascination indeed, and one that drew him like a moth to flame.

So it was, despite these seemingly insurmountable differences of character, Mr. Collins and Lydia found themselves wondering about one another in a similar vein of interest, though neither one had the courage to act upon their newly developed feelings. It is almost certain they would have remained forever separate, were it not for a certain incident that occurred in an evening of unrivaled events.

_-x-_

It was the night of the Netherfield ball and Lydia was in a frenzy. Kitty said the pink gown she'd chosen did not become her complexion. This was cause for great worry as Lydia had been keen on seeing Mr. Collin's reaction to her sporting a colour he had denounced as "too ostentations for proper ladies of a modest household." If she was not pretty in her pink gown, the entire purpose of the evening was ruined.

She bounded down the hall to ask Lizzy for advice, not bothering to disguise her full, womanly form with a robe. In a house with four sisters she had never been much chided for her lack of covering during her treks to and from their chambers, for who was there to see her but them and their mother? And though Mrs. Bennet did loudly remark upon her indecency tonight, it was more towards the frustration of her not having dressed for the ball.

Particular care had been given to Elizabeth's toilette, whose hair was adorned with such rosettes and ribbons that she was actually becoming, and with a twinge of jealousy Lydia noted, fully prepared for the evening's festivities. She made a passing comment about Wickham, knowing it was expected. Wickham, after all, was the model of a man she would set her cap at, and it made Lizzy a touch _less_ becoming when she frowned.

Lizzy wouldn't say anything complimentary about her choice of dress and chose to remain diplomatic. This made Lydia resolute in the decision to wear the pink. Kitty was mad. She had to be in thinking this colour did not suit her. So determined in conjuring up the meanest rebuttals she could express to Kitty when back in their room, Lydia did not notice Mr. Collin's distracted ambling down the corridor until she was almost in his arms—and her practically nude! Indeed, if she had not looked up precisely when she had, who was to say she would not have ended up in such a compromising position with the awkward parson? Oh Lord, it was too funny!

Mr. Collins was greatly flustered. He turned a red that reminded her of beet juice, making Lydia break out into a peal of giggling, the likes of which would not be stifled with her poor pink gown. He tried to pass. She barred the way. He skirted around her. She moved in his path again, toying with his embarrassment a while longer, until at last she gave up the game and let him by, his hand shielding his eyes in the most hilarious fashion.

Back in her shared quarters with Kitty, she related the story with gusto, but kept back still more than she ever let out. The escapade with the pink dress only made her wearing it more comical. Kitty's opinion meant less than nothing to her now.

_-x-_

The ball was a sore point with Mr. Collins. Lydia continued to thrust herself at the officers as she had at every other social gathering, no doubt to distract herself from the hideous embarrassment of the hours previous. He danced with Miss Elizabeth Bennet as a means of distracting himself, but his thoughts refused to leave the bonnie child hanging off the arm of a man in a sharp red uniform. She was wearing pink! And after everything he had said against it as a colour. He missed a step and bumped into a lady, apologizing profusely for his accidental error.

As Lydia turned about the room, curls bouncing haphazardly and shrieks of laughter ringing after her like a cow bell, Mr. Collins could not take his mind off the way her hair had looked free and falling down behind her back, nor how pleasingly plump her figure was when arrayed in the most simplest of fashions—surely the way God intended.

Could it be that looking at a woman with such shameless thoughts cast a shadow on his character, making him as lewd a man as those debase scoundrels sweeping the gutters of London? Though this trouble began with the fault of unfortunate placement, for him to let her go unchecked could leave her exposed to other men, making him a villain by his inaction. He would not be the lesser man for his blunder! If Lydia's reputation was on the verge of being sullied, he would be the one to restore it! _He_ would do the noble thing!

The next morning he was resolute. He met Lydia in the hall and invited her to a private interview after breakfast. "What could you possibly have to say to me, Mr. Collins?" was her saucy remark, though too curious to refuse, she consented almost immediately after the words had passed her lips.

She concluded after a few moments pause that the interview was to be had as segue into his scolding her over her choice of dress and ornamentation at the ball. She decided that would be worth hearing.

Lydia giggled as he bowed very low for her entrance into the room. He was so serious! Serious people were always the most comical to Lydia, for they were eager to believe whatever one said. She turned about, facing him, ready to make a game out of anything he did.

He bade her sit with a flourishing hand. She landed in the chair with as much grace as a hippopotamus, exhaling loudly.

"Miss Lydia Bennet…" he began, and she prepared for the sermon that was sure to come. Rather than waste time by listening until she could no longer follow, Lydia immediately began surveying each of her fingernails to ascertain if any had chipped the night before.

"You cannot have forgotten the… _unfortunate_ events which occurred outside your sisters'—and your boudoir last evening, and I consider it my Christian duty to apologize most profoundly for my part in the incident."

Lydia snickered at the word "boudoir," but as it was followed by the phrase "Christian duty" she did not consider it beneficial to shake herself from her continued daydreaming.

"I am aware of the censure this may bring you from your family, and perhaps others, when they learn of how I have seen more of your womanly figure than is proper for any man to see besides the one who takes you to his bosom… as is your husband's right."

At least she _had_ bosoms. Unlike Molly Sims, that little twig of a thing that made herself a nuisance by calling on Kitty and taking her away from Lydia. Lydia lived in the countryside, but she would never consider herself _country_ enough to sit for one sip of tea in the presence of Miss Sims.

"I feel it is my duty to save you from your reputation. And as it is my wandering eyes that are partially to blame in this matter, I will take it upon myself to secure you as my wife. For as the honorable Lady Catherine de Bourg declares..."

Lydia began to giggle again. She wasn't following a word of the poor Mr. Collins's speech, but Lord, his expressions were funny!

"...when we are married, I will expect more decorum in the conduct of a lady so privileged as to receive the condescension as addressed by Lady Catherine..."

Was he talking of marriage? To whom, she wondered. She was the only female in the room… could he _truly_ be addressing her on the subject of matrimony? She considered it likely he was merely presenting to her the idea of his marrying one of her sisters. Perhaps she should have listened better… she would _die_ if she wasn't able to laugh soon!

"But, I am certain that once we have entered the blissful state of matrimony, we will be everything to each other that a man and woman... eh… that is to say, Miss Lydia Bennet, will you consent to raise yourself from this humble state of abjection… and be my wife?"

She opened her mouth to laugh and choked on air. He _was_ proposing to her! An in perfect earnest, no less!

For once in her fifteen years, Lydia was without a response. Her tongue seemed a foreign object, no longer subject to her will. As marriage to Mr. Collins played out in her mind as a real possibility, she grew moderately more serious. Why… she would be the only Bennet girl with a husband!

To be married first of all her sisters! And she the youngest! How jealous they all would be! And Mr. Collins was to inherit Longbourne after her father's death, making _her_ mistress of her mother's house! La, what a joke! What a funny possibility!

How Kitty would laugh when she told her the news! How the rest would scowl! Lydia lept out of her chair in anticipation of their dumbfounded expressions when she told them it was _she_ who now determined which chamber was hers and who should be subject to the drafts of the one she currently occupied. She had almost reached the door, ready to shock the household, when Mr. Collin's feeble voice made her pause.

"My dear, you have not given me a real answer."

"Yes, Mr. Collins! I will!" she cried over her shoulder, dashing merrily away.

She had never laughed so hard in her life.

* * *

_Author's Note..._

Oh, sleepovers. What wonders you have wrought! The story behind the story is as follows: I was trying on a chemise at my most dearest friend's house while laughing at the scene in which Lydia bumps into Mr. Collins wearing naught but an itty bitty slip. I wondered aloud if there were any Lydia/Collins fan fiction stories, and my best friend said, "I'm sure there are, but... why...?" and we both were struck by the same thought. Realistically, for such a couple to exist, Mr. Collins would feel duty bound to marry her after seeing so much of her flesh. It's not _that_ far fetched!

This was done purely for the reason that it makes me snicker. Also, I feel accomplished for having _finished_ something on this site.


	2. Consequences of an Indecent Slip

**Consequences of an Indecent Slip **

"Mr. Collins! And Lydia! Surely not!"

Elizabeth Bennet sank down in her father's chair, stunned beyond eloquence. "They have nothing to recommend them to each other! Is Lydia in earnest?"

"I tell you, Lizzy, that is just what I said, but she is _determined_ to marry him."

"But why? Why would Lydia accept a man she does not even like?" She was convinced that even that expression did not fully encompass the nature of Lydia's disdain for the man, unless they had all been deceived in her constant berating him.

"No doubt she has some purpose we are all unaware off. I am not one to pretend an understanding of the female mind." Mr. Bennet shook his head. "No, indeed. I thought if anyone could shed light on this strange situation it would be you, Lizzy."

"I cannot conceive of a reason for it!" She pondered in utter astonishment, but was met with no hint of clarity.

"What of Mama?" she wondered aloud.

"She thinks it very fine. She is firmly convinced that Lydia is making the sacrifice to secure her a home for when I am gone. If I thought there was any selflessness in my youngest daughter, I might be tempted to believe the same."

That was a point Elizabeth had failed to consider. Becoming the wife of Mr. Collins would make Lydia the eventual mistress of Longbourn. Mr. Collins did not seem the kind of character to throw his wife's family out of their dwelling, and so she supposed when the time came the couple and all the Mrs. Collins' unmarried sisters would live together.

She envisioned the great changes her sister would make to the order of the house; how the barely maintained economic stability was sure to crumble; how Kitty and Mary would be made to share a room, and how Jane would be forced to give way in all things to the preference of her married sister—the _mistress_ of the house. As for Lizzy, she would be subject to almost constant squabbles betwixt them all, never again finding peace or reprieve in the home of her youth, for then her father would be gone and with him all semblance of quiet.

Lydia's marriage was always assumed to be an event so far in the future that it barely prompted a passing thought. Now she was suddenly betrothed to the man who would inherit Longbourn upon their father's death, and there would be no escape for Elizabeth or any of her sisters unless they made a match before the unhappy event of their loss of progenitor.

Whatever Mr. Wickham said of him, Mr. Darcy and his ten thousand a year were becoming more amiable prospects by the minute.

When her interview with her father had come to a close, neither one of them were any closer to fathoming the reason that led Lydia to such a decision.

Elizabeth closed the door quietly behind her and ascended the stairs that led to her bedroom, fully aware that the shrill and frantic cries from her mother were nothing to cause alarm. She would have liked to speak with Lydia, but there was no use in pestering her for an explanation while she was being showered with her mother's adoration. Elizabeth moved past the frenzy, half hoping that Jane would not be occupying her bed chamber. She knew her eldest sister would be predisposed to believe Lydia _was_ acting out of concern for their mother and that Mr. Collins was genuinely in love with their youngest sister, but Lizzy was not so persuaded.

There was but one thing to do when the house was in such disruption. She collected her jacket and bonnet in preparation to find clarity in the simplicity of natural things. When people made fools of themselves, birds and badgers made fine substitutes for human company.

She sauntered down her favourite walk, pondering the great improbability of her sister's choice. She was quite familiar with Lydia's competitive spirit, but could she be so bent on securing a husband before her sisters that Mr. Collins would be found an acceptable choice? Perhaps it was the prospect of being near kin to Lady Catherine, and thereby forming association with a name of high honour. But Lydia, the wife of a vicar!

As for Collins, it was not difficult to see why he would set his eyes on Lydia. She was young, vivacious, and pretty, and many a more sensible man found reason to turn their heads at her. Mr. Collins was _not _a sensible man, and his head turned wherever the wind blew. Elizabeth knew him to at least practice the forms of morality that would keep him from slander as fit his position; her sister would be secure with a husband who would remain the epitome of faithfulness—of that at least she was certain.

She wondered at how this marriage would affect her other sisters. Mary would only raise an eyebrow and quote a deceased philosopher. The pinnacle of her happier emotions would derive from sitting silently and observing all those who danced at the reception.

Kitty might not bear it so well. As the youngest of five girls, Lydia learned early that letting secrets be known to one sister usually resulted in all sisters being privy to the knowledge, and yet Kitty was the sole companion whom Lydia shared the greatest of her confidence in. If this was all some ill conceived joke, Kitty would be a part of it. Her reaction to the news could give some insight into Lydia's thoughts. However, Elizabeth was not prepared to return home for another hour at least. The matter would have to keep for the remaining duration of her walk.

Lizzy plucked a fallen branch off the path and swished it at her side as she trotted on. How she herself was to be affected by such a union, she could scarcely conceive.

_-x-_

It was not until tea had been cleared away the next day that she found an excuse to speak privately with Lydia. The accommodating weather permitted the sisters to take their tea out of doors, and as one by one the other girls found themselves paired off in separate amusements, Elizabeth and Lydia were left alone on a bench that overlooked the lawn.

Elizabeth knew she had to tread carefully. Lydia's headstrong nature made it likely that any questions would be taken as insult.

"I have not yet had the chance to congratulate you," she began, doing a fair job of keeping sarcasm from her tone.

"Aren't you jealous?" Lydia giggled, "I daresay you thought Mr. Collins would ask _you_ to marry him, being that you're so sensible and proper."

"Are you implying that you are the opposite of sensible and proper?"

Lydia _hmph_ed. "You must see me as a stupid girl with no purpose." Elizabeth merely raised an eyebrow in response. "But you're wrong, Lizzy. I can be sensible. And the more you try to persuade me out of this marriage, the more I'll be convinced you're envious of my position. I'm sure it would please you to take Mama's place when our father is gone. Lord! You are always trying to mother us all, as if something made you mistress of the house. Well I shall come into my own as deserved, and you'll no longer need to play mother hen to us girls."

Lydia's petulant outburst came as no surprise to Elizabeth. It did however confirm in her mind that Lydia's reasons were not the selfless ones Jane believed. "Lydia, despite your poor opinion of me, I do want my sisters to be happy. If you believe marriage to Mr. Collins will make you so, I can only venture to say I am pleased you have accepted a man of such… outstanding moral character." She allowed some humour to show in her inflections.

Lydia tossed her head. "You needn't be so smart with me, Lizzy. I know he's not fine or handsome, and if he has any wit at all he keeps it to himself… but still I shall have a _husband_! Not one of my sisters can boast a husband. Not even you. And what a relief it will be to have things that are _mine_. To not share my income, or have my bonnets and things taken by other girls in the house!" She squealed in good earnest.

"I think you'll find the stipulations of your income will entirely depend on the generosity of your husband, dear. And you will have an obligation to provide for your parishioners."

"Oh, do stop. It's impossible to have a conversation with you while you're so serious and disapproving. Lord, you're as severe as Mr. Darcy's looks. A country parson doesn't need much to live on, and the rest will go to me, of course. As for the parishioners, I'm sure Lady Catherine will do her Christian duty by them. She can't expect _us_ to shoulder all of the responsibility."

"I do envy you in one way, Lydia, and that is how certain you seem of this match."

"I am quite certain. And as I said, the more you pester me the more I'm determined. Oh look! Kitty has caught something large in her net! Is it another horrid beetle? I shall go and see."

* * *

_Author's Notes..._

Yes. This continues. I bend to the will of the readers (and my Beta Mistress) and made this more than a one-shot.


	3. Further Consequences of an Indecent Slip

**Further Consequences of an Indecent Slip**

For the next several weeks, the sisters conspired to keep Lydia indoors so as not to create a scandal. They were quite fearful lest she be caught amongst her old acquaintances and by persuasion of spirited company forgo her obligations to Mr. Collins. Though they all were privy to the conspiracy, Mary alone spoke her forebodings aloud.

Keeping Lydia at home was not entirely difficult with Mrs. Bennet so eager to discuss every detail of the wedding trousseau. Kitty was also agreeable to the sheltering of her younger sister as the constant ignoring of her in lieu of wedding plans gave her reason to find little joy in Lydia's company.

So it was that Lizzy set off for Meryton one afternoon with only Jane, Kitty, and Charlotte Lucas for company.

Elizabeth was in a better frame of mind than she had been regarding the marriage between her sister and Mr. Collins. She had determined not to dwell on what might be, but to enjoy the thought that presently she had the removal of Lydia from Longbourn to look forward to, and that she was not currently striving to keep her and Kitty from making ninnies of themselves as they approached the shops. Without their youngest sister, Kitty was content to peer into shop windows rather than seek the attention of every male passerby.

Upon seeing a group of soldiers mulling about, Elizabeth pointed out a particularly pretty bonnet to Kitty, averting the soldiers' gaze and the obligation to greet them. She had no wish to be caught in their company, or to give account for her sister's recent removal from their society. Having turned aside so quickly, she could not be sure which of the soldiers passed on. Though she wished to see Wickham again to give further account of Mr. Darcy's character, it was not worth the risk to merely satisfy curiosity.

As the soldiers passed by, two horsemen slowed and came to stop. Mr. Bingley alighted from one to pay his respects and start a lively conversation with Jane. The other horseman seemed to deliberate for a moment before he too dismounted and bowed to the ladies.

Elizabeth bowed civilly, wondering at the pain it must give him to be forced to stop for such common folk. She tried smothering an unwarranted smile.

"Mr. Darcy, I believe you know my friend, Charlotte Lucas."

"Indeed. I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Lucas at Netherfield."

"Ah, yes. I thought there were not enough couples that night," Lizzy sighed, "There should have been more gentleman dancing. Some present danced only one or two dances, though the room was full of young ladies without partners."

Charlotte dipped her head to hide a smile. Mr. Darcy looked curiously at Elizabeth. "Do you mean to bait me, Miss Bennet?"

"If I thought you so easily baited, I am certain you would have rectified the shortage of dance partners that evening."

This only deepened Mr. Darcy's frown, and it seemed he had no reply to Lizzy's teasing. Before another word could be exchanged, Mr. Bingley turned the tone with a cheerful interruption. "It seems we have need of another ball to let us mend the offenses! What say you, Miss Elizabeth?"

She turned graciously to him. "You are very kind, Mr. Bingley, but we shall all be very busy for the next few months hereafter."

"Your sister is to be married! Of course! A hearty congratulations to her, and to you all!"

"I believe we've kept the ladies long enough from their business, Bingley." Mr. Darcy's tone was more affable than Lizzy had heard before, and there was something akin to amusement in his expression.

"Of course," Mr. Bingley grinned. "Good day to you, Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas," and tipping his hat to each of them in turn, though dipping his head an inch lower to the elder Miss Bennet, Mr. Bingley returned to his horse and the two gentleman rode away.

* * *

_Author's Notations..._

Tsk, tsk, dear readers, this is getting out of hand! I meant to write a simple one-shot, forged from the fires of Mt. Doom. Oops. I shouldn't be posting and watching **ROTK** at the same time. My point is, everyone who reviewed was so kind and insistent on having more of a story, that I couldn't resist. I also updated the previous installment with a few edits. It is not enormously different, but tweaked, you might say.

As for this piece and a furtherance of the tale, I'm of the opinion that in the original novel there were far too many balls. It makes it very hard to figure out any sort of timeline regarding who knew what about whom at which social event, etc. So please forgive any errors and try to enjoy the twist, regardless.

Abundant thank you's to all you who review, and _Her Fantasy_ for the kind critique. :)


	4. Mr Collins in Matrimony

**Mr. Collins in Matrimony**

If Lydia thought Mr. Collins had a hidden propensity for worldly pleasures she was proved wrong the first night of matrimony.

He did insist on reading sermons before their conjugation and sometimes after if he did not immediately fall asleep, and their joining was quick and unromantic as handing cook a list for the grocer's. Lydia thought it an uncomfortable, dispassionate business, but there was not much for it, as it was her wifely duty to succumb to him whenever he turned to her in the night.

It might have been tolerable, had her husband not the ghastly misfortune of snoring. All else might have been endured if she could but sleep through the nasal projections. She was not tired enough to sleep and she would not _be_ tired enough if Mr. Collins was the only active participant during intercourse—and he barely active at that.

However, she was not discouraged, as she was confident he required only a push here and there to awaken his sleeping desires.

For the time being, however, the most passion he showed was over his flower garden or beef steak.

They were a most congenial couple at breakfast.

"Collie," she would say, as he chewed a mouthful. "I am going to buy new gloves today."

And as he could do nothing but nod and smile, she would have her way in anything she asked for; so long as it was discussed before he'd finished swallowing.

"Collie!" she would call to him as she feigned a great interest in trimming the rosebush, "My hair is caught in a thorn!"

And unaware of the trap he was falling into, Mr. Collins would come to his wife's aid, ready to lecture on the folly of loose curls, even one or two around the face bearing a clear mark of vanity, and instead be struck speechless by the unavoidable view of Lydia's fine breasts, exhibited by her stooping posture.

"Now, do not be cross," she pouted. "They are such beautiful roses, so _round_ and _pink_, and I could not resist getting a closer look. Are they as soft as they appear?"

Mr. Collins was overcome by an extreme case of dry throat, and coughed most alarmingly until the vivacious Mrs. Collins sat him inside and brought him water. It was a difficult task when her shoulders shook from laughter.

It was not too long before Lizzy made her visit to the new mistress of Hunsford. Jane would have come, but for Mrs. Bennet's absolute refusal. Mr. Bingley paid her a great deal of attention which could not be mistaken—at least in Mrs. Bennet's eyes—as intentions towards marriage. Even to Elizabeth, it seemed a budding mutual preference was fast becoming a courtship, and therefore Jane could not be spared.

Kitty was in London, taking advantage of her Aunt and Uncle Gardiners' wish for a young travelling companion. Elizabeth was therefore set to make the journey alone, but for the accompaniment of a servant.

It was a relief to her to see how happy Lydia was. Elizabeth had feared her flighty sister might be pining away in boredom, or plaguing her husband's heart out with twice the fervour that her mother showed. It was a pleasant shock to witness the mirthful way the new Mrs. Collins teased her husband—perhaps a little wickedly, but to no one's great harm—and he accepted it with a sort of perplexity that left little time for his pretty compliments that were the product of previous study. Lydia did not seem to miss them. In fact, she seemed so distracted by her making a project of her husband that finding areas of complaint were quite forgotten.

It was a fine day, and Mr. Collins was tending to his little plot when Elizabeth and Lydia were first able to speak freely to one another.

Married life had not improved Lydia's posture, and she made quite a show of falling into her chair with a sigh. "Oh, look at my husband, Lizzy. Isn't he quaint? I think him quite ridiculous, but there is something to be said for a man that makes me laugh so. I remember a day when I fancied a man in uniform. But I am an old married woman, now and hardly recall the pursuits of my youth. Who was that young man we used to talk about?"

Elizabeth smiled into her teacup. "He was not so very young, Lydia. You know very well George Wickham is older than you by a number of years."

"Ah, yes! Wickham! Can you believe he's run off with Mary King? It is not surprising due to his history," she mused distractedly.

Elizabeth had heard of his recent elopement, and thought it made his dark tale of Mr. Darcy all the more curious.

"What history? Whatever do you mean, Lydia?"

"Well, one of Collie's parishioners, Mrs. Greetling, she's very old you know, said that Wickham was quite the scoundrel. He incurred debts, and was always running off at university instead of attending to his studies. He refused to take the parish the elder Mr. Darcy set out for him, and gambled away his prospects. There was even some strange incident that made the younger Mr. Darcy break all contact with him. Might have had to do with the sister, Georgiana. Darcy's, not Wickham's." She twirled her fingers through the curtain as she nattered on, "The Darcy family was always close with Wickham, you know. But the Darcys are so private. Any scandal would have been hushed up, of course. And now Wickham's run off with that freckled nit, Mary King! What a lucky escape you've had! For I know you fancied him, Lizzy," she ended with a giggle.

"Perhaps I did," Lizzy mused. "Perhaps it was a very lucky escape."

The moment Elizabeth could be alone with her thoughts, she wrote a letter to Jane, relating to her what a foolish creature she was to so easily be deceived by George Wickham, and recounting the entirety of what she now knew of the matter.

She sealed the letter and put her pen away, determined to think a little better on a certain gentleman with ten thousand a year.

Just then, a knock on the door preceded the maid, and Mr. Darcy was announced.

* * *

**Author's Notations:**

Lydia is a naughty. But am I the only one who thinks this could actually sort of work? It seemed an absurd notion at the time of writing the first part of this-back when it was still a one-shot-but the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that Lydia's marriage to Mr. Collins could solve virtually all the problems of every _Pride and Prejudice_ character. I know, I know. That reduces the conflict, the tension isn't dramatic enough... but for ways of simplifying your own life and getting to a faster happy end, marry off your Lydias to respectable clergymen!

That's wisdom from an old maid right there.

Ah. And do tell me if I need to rank this under M. I'm wavering, because it's not dreadfully obscene, but then there is a flash of womanly endowments, so what do you think? Might some T readers be offended that this is not the story they expected?


	5. The End of the Matter

**The End of the Matter**

His manner was quite curious. Mr. Darcy paced the floor like one in torment, and not as a gentleman who came for a friendly word. His hat was an instrument of abuse as he twisted the brim, heeding nothing but what thoughts begged for release, if he could but muster the courage to speak them aloud.

With many stops and stutters, he went about the room, looking now and again at Elizabeth who could not tell what she was expected to say or do. Her letter to Jane only waited for an address. She hoped it was not evident the way her eyes drifted back to the desk and its contents. She had chosen to remain standing, thinking this could not possibly be a prolonged interview.

Some pleasantries were exchanged, but she knew they were not the reason for his visit. He could not take so great an interest in the wellbeing of her mother, or the musical preference of her sisters.

Silence stole over them. Elizabeth had no more to say that could possibly interest Mr. Darcy. Two birds in the garden bantered noisily. Mr. Darcy let out a short, frustrated breath.

At last he came to the end of the matter, admitted that in vain he struggled to repress his feelings, and announced, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

She kept her composure as best she was able, sinking into a chair in silent shock.

Elizabeth Bennet opened her mouth to refuse him... and could not contrive of a single reason why she should _not_ marry Mr. Darcy.

She had never been so astonished in all her life.

* * *

_Author's Farewell:_

And so we've reached the end! I trust we're all familiar with how the story really goes, so I tried to minimize the dialogue that we already know and love so well, and focus on the differences that would be made from Mr. Collins marriage to Lydia. I know this is a _very_ short ending piece, but that's why I chose to post it along with its predecessor.

I hope you've enjoyed this little romp! It would be delightful to hear your thoughts on it!

I must now return to my _American Girl_ and _H2O_ stories. Farewell!


End file.
